


Baby There's No Other Superstar

by panicmoonwalk



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Photographer Harry, Smut, Solo Louis, That's all it is basically, Underwear Model Louis, semi public sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicmoonwalk/pseuds/panicmoonwalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is an underwear model who gets a little more than he bargained for when Harry's the photographer on his next shoot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby There's No Other Superstar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> Please excuse this terribly self- indulgent attempt at smut! Underwear model Louis should 100% be a thing.
> 
> Thanks to [longhairedlou](http://longhairedlou.tumblr.com/) for the prompt and [keepmyarmswideopen](http://keepmyarmswideopen.tumblr.com/) and [sstylinshaw](http://sstylinshaw.tumblr.com/) for your ideas and overwhelming support ;), this is all your fault.
> 
> Title from Lady Gaga's 'Paparazzi'. Yes I googled the first song I thought of that involved photography. Don't judge.
> 
> Enjoy!

Louis eyed himself in the full length mirror, running a critical eye over his lithe body clad only in a tiny pair of boxer briefs. He eyed his crotch, silently fuming over the producer who had handed him a pair of socks along with a ‘better tuck that in the package mate, Photoshop can only do so much.’

Just because Louis had been wearing a skin tight pair of black skinnies didn’t mean he was lacking in that department, cheers. Although he didn’t think forcing the producer’s face into his crotch and yelling ‘these are designed to practically shove your penis back into your body, so what if I’m not looking my best, groin wise’ was the best thing to do when they’re paying you thousands of pounds to lounge around in your pants.

With a last sigh, he ran a hand down his crotch, ignoring the slight twinge as his dick twitched at the contact. Louis was well hung at the best of times if he may say so himself, well, he’d never had any complaints. Frankly, that top knotted twat could go fuck himself. It’s not like anyone with a nose that large could be an underwear model, even if they had a dick the size of a boa constrictor.

Louis quickly wrapped the plain black robe over his body, tying the rope in a loose knot before checking his phone, lazily scrolling down the list of frantic messages he’d ignored from his manager when he’d been late to the shoot, seriously, it was like five minutes, dude chill.

As per his usual shoots he expected some messy haired intern with frantic eyes and coffee breath to come and tell him the photographer was ready for him, five years in the industry meant he knew what to expect and his skin was thick enough to enough the torrents of bullshit that came with it.

He sent his manager, Alberto, a quick ‘chill will you, I’m here ready and waiting’ before locking his phone and chucking it back onto the stained charcoal sofa. He pulled a face at his ‘dressing room’, noting the complete lack of chilled spring water he usually asked for and the make-up marks on his mirror.

He coughed slightly, the make-up artist had really been a bit over zealous with the old foundation, and stretched upwards, waiting until his back popped as he knew he’d be soon lounging in various uncomfortable positions that were supposed to look somehow erotic.

Although he was used to it, and fuck if he didn’t do his job well (the huge billboards in Piccadilly Circus spoke for themselves), he couldn’t help but feel slightly weary about the shoot ahead, with a no doubt bald photographer with a camera larger than his head yelling ‘I need more oomph babe’ at him. He just hoped he didn’t have to try and look at least somewhat sexually aroused pressed up against a half-naked girl, because _really_ , not only was it highly unbelievable as literally the whole world knew he was into cock, but seriously, it was so overdone. They really needed to come up with some new ideas. Luckily, Louis’ face seemed to do it for them. And his enormous package. Yeah, that was definitely it.

A quick knock on his door caused Louis to blink awake, and he ambled forward to open it with a yawn.

“Yes, love?” He eyed the predicted harried looking twenty- two year old with an obligatory clipboard, trying not to notice how her eyes immediately dropped to his crotch, despite it being hidden underneath his robe.

“You’re wanted in studio 3 Mr Tomlinson.” She squeaked, running a hand through a thick blonde fringe before beckoning him forward, rushing off down the corridor and occasionally darting a look backwards to check he was following.

Fuck, Louis could do with a spliff. Or a blowie. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he was an _underwear model_ for god sake, he hadn’t had a shag in a fair while, and not to be dramatic or anything, but he was fairly certain if that didn’t change soon then his balls might explode. Everywhere. All up the walls.

“In here Mr Tomlinson.” The girl came to a stop and gestured towards a closed wooden door, a brass ‘3’ nailed three quarters up.

“Call me Louis.” He replied with a reassuring smile, giving her a nod of thanks before reaching forwards and twisting the doorknob.

He took in the usual white screens and tripods with a tired eye, still teetering on the edge of admitting to himself maybe he was ever so slightly fed up of his job, knowing Niall would punch him for complaining about the ‘best job in the fuckin’ world mate, I’m telling yer’ and Liam would roll his eyes.

He sighed with annoyance when he realised the photographer was yet to be there, he’d really rather not go back to the days when he was first trying to force himself on the industry and he’d waited in various freezing parks or seedy bars for potential photographers.

With yet another yawn, (he _really_ shouldn’t have stayed up watching that last episode of Made in Chelsea last night), he wandered towards the professional looking camera equipment, chuckling to himself when he crouched in front of a complicated looking piece of kit and pressed a random button, a light flashing in his face as he contorted his features into the most unattractive expression ever.

“Having fun?” Came an amused voice and Louis stood up with a start, hurrying to clip the lens back onto the thousand pounds worth of camera.

“Uh, no, uh, sorry I was just—“ he stuttered, hastily smoothing down his robe before bracing himself for the onslaught of abuse he’d no doubt be on the receiving end of. Photographers didn’t really like it when you touched their stuff. He’d learned that the hard way when he’d tossed off the boyfriend of the official Calvin Klein photographer in the toilet of an industry party and received a black eye. Oops.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing…” Came the voice again, this time seeming much closer behind Louis and surprisingly young. This job normally came hand in hand with middle aged photographers angry at the world and trying to seem ten years younger than they really were, and Louis raised a curious eyebrow before turning round.

And, oh. Well then. This guy was neither bald, nor middle aged. In fact he had a somewhat luscious mane of curly dark hair that just begged to be covered in come, and a young face with absolutely sinful lips that just begged for much of the same. Louis felt a jolt straight in his crotch, and he adjusted his robe self-consciously. Shit, now he was standing to attention. In more ways than one, it would seem.

*

Louis was going to die. Full on up and die, purely from the worst sexual frustration he’d ever experienced in his life.

Because he was currently bent over the back of a lilac chaise lounge with an arched back, arse in the air, and the stupidly gorgeous photographer who he’d now learned was named Harry was a mere three feet behind him, finger snapping on the take button with a quiet ‘yeah, that’s it.’

And, well, if this was not the most erotic photoshoot Louis had ever done, and he’d been fully naked in some of them in the early days, then then he was in serious need of a glass of water in the face, because it was taking all of his brain power to not pop an erection and frighten fit photographer Harry half to death.

“Yeah, that’s just right, now arch your back just a little more…” Came Harry’s low voice, and Louis almost groaned with pure frustration, tensing his thighs and pushing his arse up further. The nearer to Harry’s face the better really, if he was going to suffer than he could at least hope his best asset could elicit some sort of reaction. Besides, he’d been told his arse was ‘purely irresistible’ once. Granted, he was boinking the guy at the time, but still, it counts.

The sharp intake of breathe behind him told Louis he’d done the job, and he smirked, his ability to ignore the ache in his thighs and back becoming easier as he knew it was affecting Harry, making him want Louis, even if it was just a tiny bit.

Harry coughed lightly. “Right, brilliant,” he said quickly. “Now if you could just lay on the lounger there, spread your legs a bit…”

Louis eagerly obliged, still willing his dick to cooperate with all his might as he plonked himself down on the settee, laying back and bending one knee as he spread his legs, looking up towards Harry with hooded eyes.

“This okay?” Louis asked, reaching down to unabashedly adjust the position of his cock, smugness filling him when he noticed how Harry’s eyes followed his hand and lingered on his crotch before he blinked, hastily gathering up his camera and aiming for a shot.

“Yeah, Harry replied gravelly. “Yeah, like that.” He said, more clearly this time.

Louis was far too pleased at his ability to affect someone he’d just met, but if he didn’t finish this shoot soon he was going to be wanking furiously in full view of Harry and his bloody camera, and although that may not be a bad thing, he’d no doubt come under fire for his ‘lack of professionalism’, or something. Wanking in front of a photographer is probably not a pro in the code of ‘how to be an underwear model’… how unfair.

He watched Harry move around to the front of Louis’ lounger, not even trying to be inconspicuous as he ran his eyes down Harry’s long, lean legs, eyes widening slightly when Harry bent to grab something out of his camera bag and Louis got an eyeful of his pert bum, stretching out the fabric of his skin tight black skinnies.

Louis gulped. He was definitely not used to this. Plus, for some reason, the room was empty of the usual hustle and bustle of various people monitoring the shoot, most likely a request from the photographer. And, wait, wasn’t that weird? Like most photographers requested normal things, like a certain Enya song to be on repeat whilst they were shooting, or for people to speak solely in Portuguese.

That not exactly health train of thought led him to the realisation that there was no doubt Harry had seen his picture before this shoot, and had perhaps requested an empty room based on the fact. Was that too far of a stretch? Maybe this was just how Harry worked. Of course that was it, it couldn’t be that Harry wanted to be alone with him whilst he stood in various erotic poses clad only in a pair of tight boxers… surely?

And shit, Louis cock had had some sort of reaction to that thought and as much as Louis tried to exhibit mind control on it, well, his pants were straining slightly as his cock thickened. Fuck, he shifted, attempting to stand up and bloody leg it, Alberto’s wrath be damned, when he risked a glance at Harry.

The photographer’s gaze was dark, and he eyed Louis’ crotch with barley contained lust, running a delicate pink tongue across his plump bottom lip, being highly unhelpful to Louis’ tightening pants situation as he struggled to his feet.

“No.” Harry finally spoke, raising his gaze to meet Louis’. “No, just, fuck,” He paused, running a hand through his thick curls and glancing round the room, tensed as if someone might burst in at any moment (which, well, they just might… Louis tried not to think about that, his cock was hard enough as it was). “Just, stay like that, fuck… so hot,” his voice turned to mumbles as his gaze drifted once again to Louis’ crotch, and well, okay. This wasn’t how his usual shoots went but he was pretty sure he could roll with it.

Slowly, he lowered himself back onto the lounger, reclining back and resuming his previous position of one bent leg. He looked up at Harry and bit his lip, trying not to smirk when he noticed his eyebrows twitch.

Hesitantly, Harry lifted his camera, holding Louis’ gaze as he raised it and pointed it towards Louis’ crotch, not breaking eye contact as he pressed the button and the flash went off, capturing the way Louis’ hard cock was starting to leak against the white material of his pants.

Louis’ gaze remained locked on Harry’s and he was near fit to burst with the intensity of it, the charged atmosphere in the room causing his stomach to roll with the anticipation of just how this situation could end. Usually during his shoots he’d be dreaming of his xbox controller, the new fifa and the pizza he was having for tea ( _not_ a Kale smoothie, thanks, Alberto), instead he was imagining Harry’s soft lips around his cock, how his cheeks would hollow and how Louis’ hand would look tangled in his thick curls as he pulled him up and down his cock.

And shit, Louis didn’t think it was possible to be even harder than he already was but somehow it had happened, and without even registering, not even thinking that he was in the presence of a near stranger, he brushed a hand down his stomach and palmed his aching cock through his boxers, gasping both at the slight relief and at the pleasure of the simple touch.

He froze when the reminder of Harry’s presence came back to him when a slight choking noise sounded to his right, and he smirked slightly, not feeling too put off when he continued to hear the click and whir of Harry’s camera.

Louis closed his eyes and dropped his head back, breathing becoming more rapid as he continued to palm himself with one hand, letting the other trail softly up his golden torso and drift towards his nipple, letting out a low whimper when he twisted it and a shoot of pain and pleasure shot up his spine.

He heard Harry fumble slightly with his camera and Louis let himself get more lost in the moment, part of him screaming ‘what in living fuck are you doing?!’ at himself but somehow he felt comfortable in the other boy’s presence, and _fuck_ , he was so hot and just the light friction of his palm on his cock was _so good_ , knowing he was having an effect on Harry and that he seemed to want to photograph Louis doing this only spurred him on.

Knowing his dignity was naught but dust in the wind now, with a last ‘fuck it’, Louis let himself go, tugging his aching cock from out of his boxers and finally wrapping a hand round himself, letting out a loud moan at the contact which echoed round the four walls of the small studio.

“Jesus fuck.” Harry gasped, the clicking of the camera stopping for a moment. Louis opened his eyes slightly and his grip tightened as he noticed the photographer’s dark eyes tracking the movement of his hand, bottom lip pink and plump as he sunk his teeth into it.

And well, if Louis didn’t know how to put on a show then he was clearly in the wrong profession, and with a self-satisfied smirk he arched his back, slowly working his cock with long strokes, taking care to twist his wrist at the head the way he liked that caused him to whimper, breath coming out in short pants as he worked himself nearer to release.

And Louis had not been exaggerating earlier when he said it had been a while, he was dangerously close to coming and he felt like he’d barely even started, the heat in the room already rising as his back prickled with sweat, knowing every time he caught Harry’s hooded gaze and whisperings of ‘so fucking hot’ that he wanted to make this last forever, because he’d never felt so much lust and pleasure along with the pure thrill of what he was doing. But unfortunately, Louis was no porn king, and jizz was inevitable if he kept working himself like this, knowing he should slow down but the obvious bulge in the front of Harry’s ridiculously tight skinny jeans making him continue like this, wanting the photographer to be so turned on he just had to get a hand on himself. And Louis was nothing if not ambitious.

Louis slowed his pace slightly and concentrated hard on the drag of his hand over his cock, giving his left nipple one last twist before trailing his free hand down onto his thigh, parting his legs further so he could slowly tease a finger up to his balls, letting out a loud gasp when he made contact and a shoot of pleasure fizzled through his entire body. Moving his hand quickly, Louis alternated the tug of the hand on his dick with light touches to his balls, not being able to help letting out a loud moan when he opened his eyes and saw Harry had a palm gently rubbing his clothed cock, camera still clicking in his left hand as he caught Louis’ eyes, not even trying to minimize the desire written all over his face.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pleasure coursed through his body, jumping slightly when a clatter echoed round the room. And, well, making a grown man practically lob thousands of pounds worth of equipment on the floor purely because Louis was having a wank was a bit of a boost to the old ego, but before Louis had time to even feel just a little smug, Harry was rushing over to where Louis was sprawled on the lounger, stumbling slightly and righting himself on the arm before dropping to his knees in front of it, eyes never leaving Louis’ face.

Wow. If Louis could have the image of Harry Styles on his knees, palming his own cock tattooed on his retinas for the rest of his life than he definitely would, because it was certainly a jizz on the spot picture.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, his breathing becoming more rapid as he tore his gaze from Louis’ face down to where he was still working his cock. “I can’t just watch anymore, please, fuck, please can I touch you?”

And it was Harry’s politeness that stopped Louis from exhibiting some sort of garbled scream of ‘YES IF YOU DON’T I MIGHT DIE’, and instead he just nodded frantically, brain currently hardwired until all he could think about was Harry’s large hands on his cock, all over his body.

Louis quickly sat up from where he was lay back, hand still on his dick, until he was near enough face to face with Harry, both of them locking eyes and seeing lust echoed back at them, Louis feeling slightly overwhelmed that Harry seemed to want this as much as he did.

“Need to get my mouth on your cock,” Harry breathed after a moment, and arousal shot straight to Louis’ dick with his words.

“Yeah,” Louis murmmered slowly, feeling slightly dazed but quickly snapping back into himself when the weight of Harry’s words sunk in, “Yeah, fuck, please…” He, somewhat reluctantly but knowing he was about to get something so much better, removed his hand from his cock, sitting back on the lounger and spreading his legs until his cock was achingly near to Harry’s perfect mouth, the end glistening with precome.

Louis whined as Harry licked his lips, staring at Louis’ cock hungrily before gently wrapping a large hand around the base, causing Louis to moan loudly with the contact.

“Fuck,” Louis whimpered, “Fuck, more, need your mouth, please.” Louis didn’t care enough to think about how much he was begging for any kind of touch from Harry, all he knew that if he didn’t get more friction on his cock he was going to go mad with want.

Harry slowly brushed his lips against the head of Louis’ cock, smirking slightly up at him as he smeared precome onto his lips and over his cheek, mouth tilting up further at the corner’s when Louis let out a frustrated groan.

“My cock. Your mouth. Now.” Louis gasped, raising a hand from where it had been clutching at the arm of the lounger and threading it through Harry’s hair, feeling a spark of satisfaction when he pulled slightly and Harry’s smirk immediately vanished as his teeth went back to worrying his bottom lip, eyes dark.

“Bossy.” Harry quipped, not waiting for Louis to reply before he wrapped his lips around the head of Louis’ throbbing cock, suckling slightly and causing Louis to let out a mewling noise that he could swear he’d never made before in his entire life.

Tightening his grip in Harry’s hair, Louis’ tested the waters by pushing down slightly, cock throbbing when Harry let out a muffled moan and let Louis guide his head down his shaft, Louis letting out a groan as his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat and the photographer swallowed around it, the mess of his saliva when Louis pulled him back up somehow making it even hotter.

Louis rested his hand gently on Harry’s head as the younger man settled into a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down Louis’ thick shaft, occasionally stopping to swirl his tongue messily around the head in a way that caused Louis to make that ridiculous mewl sound again, before slowly taking Louis’ entire cock into his mouth, the fact that he seemed to enjoy taking so much of Louis that he was gagging only making Louis moan louder.

“So close,” Louis breathed, bucking his hips up slightly before increasing his pace when he heard Harry’s hum of approval, Harry’s mouth going lax as Louis fucked into it, staring up at him with glassy eyes as the waves of pleasured rolled through Louis body and all too soon he was coming harder than he had in a long time, thick spurts of come seeming never ending but Harry’s throat working to swallow it all, making noises as if he was actually enjoying swallowing Louis’ load causing Louis to whimper.

Louis’ shallow thrusts slowly shuddered to a halt as the aftershocks of his orgasm started to ebb, and he pulled Harry’s mouth of his cock with a loud pop, both of them breathing heavily, eyes still glued to each other as if neither wanted to look away quite yet.

It took a few seconds for Louis’ brain to start whirring again but he quickly dropped his eyes to where Harry’s jeans were straining with his erection, the line of Harry’s big cock obvious in his skinnies and being enough to cause a slight twinge in Louis’ spent cock.

Louis quickly dropped to his knees next to Harry, fumbling with the photographers leather belt before yanking open the buttons of his jeans, plunging a hand down to pull out the younger boy’s thick cock.

Louis wrapped a hand around Harry’s shaft and started working him slowly, watching the way Harry’s head fell back and he closed his eyes with the pleasure of it, his breathes quiet but the furrow between his brows deepening with every stroke.

Louis twisted his hand at the top of Harry’s cock, precome beading at the head which Louis smoothed a hand over and used to help slick his way back down Harry’s cock, flicking his wrist faster as Harry started to moan.

“Fuck, fuck, gunna come,” Harry mumbled, dropping his head forward onto Louis’ shoulder as Louis worked his hand between their flushed bodies, feeling Harry’s teeth sink into his skin as he came, spurts of white coating Louis’ torso as he felt Harry’s body shudder and release, Harry whimpering gently as Louis’ worked him until he stilled, breathe coming out in loud pants.

Louis dropped his head to rest on Harry’s as the younger boy slumped against him, both completely spent from their orgasms, oh and perhaps the fact that they had both just got each other off in a very public studio after meeting each other about half an hour ago.

Louis jumped in alarm slightly when he felt a rumbling coming from Harry’s chest, before the younger boy raised his head and Louis could see the laughter on his face.

“Hi,” Harry grinned, “I’m Harry.”

“Louis.” He replied with a soft smile. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He smirked when Harry let out a barking laugh, both of them tangled up in each other on the studio floor, covered in sweat and each other’s come.

“Just so you know,” Harry began, laying back on the carpet and pulling Louis with him so he lay half on his broad chest, “I’m keeping those pictures, for, like, ever. And probably papering my bedroom with them. Just a heads up.”

Louis smiled against Harry’s damp chest, thinking it was probably pretty weird to be cuddling a near stranger after a couple of rushed orgasms, but it didn’t feel odd for some reason. Strangely comforting in fact, and Louis was far too satiated to even contemplate what that might mean.

“Maybe I’ll let you have a more private viewing next time,” He replied casually, trailing a finger through the stickiness on Harry’s belly and letting out a satisfied smirk when the muscles trembled underneath his touch.

“It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated.
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://oceancolourpants.tumblr.com/)


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